


Bound

by MistressRenet



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen, M/M, Sacrifice, Tales of the Slayers Ficathon, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-19
Updated: 2004-09-19
Packaged: 2018-10-17 21:38:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10602765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressRenet/pseuds/MistressRenet
Summary: For the Tales of the Slayers Ficathon. Set in WWI, with a pre-Buffy slayer.And Rutter...he'd defied them, a thousand small betrayals leading into countless large ones. A Watcher's job was to watch. To stay detached. Not....Not to fall in love with your young ward's brother. Not to go along with a half-mad quest to find him, when Katya started getting the visions and insisting they must go to Germany. Not to...oh, bloody hell, there was no sense in listing it all off now.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Tiggy, Alli and Lukita for betaing duties. All of them were huge helps.

Eberhardt was tired. He'd been lost for a couple of hours now and he was fairly certain he'd been going in the wrong direction for at least a mile. The rain had made everything harder to see, and it was dark now. At least it had cleared a little, with the full moon giving some faint light through the clouds. He shouldn't even be walking around-- he should just find a trench and take shelter-- but he was lonely, and cold, and getting more and more scared. He'd lied about his age to get into the service; he'd wanted to defend Germany, to be a hero.  
  


He'd lost most of his equipment but he still had his shovel and his gas mask. He thought he'd killed an Englishman in the last fight, and then something with fangs had come toward him, lunging at his neck-- and it had crumbled to dust...he had lost almost everything then, he supposed, in the fight. Maybe he'd gone mad. The thought was almost reassuring. Or he was dying, hallucinating....  
  


There was movement in the trench before him. He approached it with his hands up, almost hoping for it to be the English...Surrender would be a relief. When he signed up, he would have died rather than be called a coward. Now he just wanted out of this hell.  
  


There were two men in the trench; as he entered he saw the first man drop limply from the second's arms. A dark smear on the second man's mouth looked terribly like blood. Another of the _things_ with the fangs. He lifted his shovel as it bared its teeth at him. It couldn't be a vampire, they didn't exist...did they?  
  


The _thing_ launched itself at him, faster than any human. It was faster than the last one had been, stronger, and his shovel was knocked away so violently his hand burned. Its face neared his neck and...it stopped, hissed angrily.  
  


His cross? Was it a vampire after all?  
  


Someone dropped into the trench and he braced himself. As the-- vampire-- turned to the newcomer, he took a firm grip on his gas mask and slammed it into the thing's head. It cursed in English and dissolved into powder before him.  
  


A young German soldier stood before him, holding a wooden stake at heart level. Eberhardt dropped to his knees in exhausted relief, ignoring the water that soaked the bottom of the trench.  
  


"Vampire?" Eberhardt asked.  
  


The soldier nodded.  
  


Another man dropped into the trench; an older man, perhaps a general-- it was hard to tell in the moonlight. "Plenty out hunting tonight. They think it's easy prey. Are you both all right?"  
  


"Fine," the soldier said. His voice was high and soft. Perhaps he was as young as Eberhardt.  
  


"That was really...a vampire?"  
  


"Yes," the older man said. "Mostly young ones out here, too foolish to realize a shell can destroy them as easily as it can a human. You're awfully close to the English side, lad."  
  


"I was lost...What are you doing here?"  
  


"Picking up strays, apparently," he answered. "I'm Holtz, and this lad here is Silber. And we have to be getting back to...."  
  


"Gas," Silber said, his eyes focused somewhere far beyond them.  
  


"I don't hear the sirens--" But they were pulling out their masks, fumbling them on, and he went to do the same just as he heard the first whine of the sirens.  
  


It was only as the gas settled into the trenches that he remembered the _crunch_ of metal when his gas mask had hit the vampire.  
  


*  
  


Katya Silber closed her eyes for a second, but the sounds were just as terrible in darkness.  
  


The boy was still coughing, still dying beside her. How old had he been?  
  


She had gotten her mask on too late three days ago, distracted by a vamp, and had taken just one breath of the stuff. She hadn't been able to move until this morning. All she really remembered of it now were the visions and the terrible, terrible burning in her lungs. She had seen the wolf again...she had to save Heinrich. She couldn't worry about this boy.  
  


But she took his hand, hoping to bring him some small comfort in death.  
  


*  
  


They moved again the next morning. "You're sure it's in this area?" Rutter asked.  
  


"I know it is," Katya said. "We have to stop it. Not just for my brother...there's something more going on. I wouldn't have made you...."  
  


Her Watcher glanced back at her. "I know, Katya. I know. I just wish your visions had given us a bit more guidance. And I'm afraid...that last boy took me for German easily enough, but he was hardly in a state to be asking questions." They had spent more of Rutter's savings than Katya cared to think about on false identity papers for them both, but Rutter's accent was adequate at best, and Katya was well aware that her voice was too high and girlish to keep up a ruse for too long. So they were wandering the no man's land until they found...whatever it was they were looking for. She knew it involved some kind of wolf, and Heinrich. Beyond that...it was just snatches, hints of a larger vision, sometimes found in dreams, sometimes glimpsed when she was awake. "We're disobeying the direct orders of the Council, and if we're discovered, your abilities may not be enough to save either of us." He pushed his spectacles up on his nose. "Katya...you know this is impossible."  
  


"We'll find him." She turned back to him. "We have to."  
  


"Bloody hell, Katya, I trust your dreams more than anyone but--" He gestured out at the wreckage before them. "We haven't been able to track his unit since we left England. There's no saying that he's here, much less that he's even--"  
  


"He's alive," she said, stubbornly. "I know it. He's in danger...the armies...there's something out here. More than the vampires. I can feel it."  
  


"I believe you." He reached out and squeezed her hand.  
  


*  
  


They wandered for a while and found an old barn to rest in; they needed some sleep before they started moving again.  
  


The Council would have his head if they knew how much trust he put in her, how many rules he'd bent and now broken for her sake. But...they were bloody fools, the lot of them, if they couldn't see the wisdom in this girl. Whatever had made her the Slayer made her something more, Rutter knew-- something better and beyond the foolishness of this war and the politics of the Council. Finding Heinrich was impossible. But if anyone could do it, it was Katya.  
  


"Don't you want to find him too?" He could hear the accusation in her voice.  
  


He waited until her eyes were on his before answering. "I do not wish to lose you both." To lose Heinrich seemed unbearable. But losing Katya....  
  


Her face softened then, and she touched his arm. "I...."  
  


"It's all right, Katya. Let's try to get some rest." He took his glasses off and let his head rest on the straw. There was hardly anything here; the farmhouse itself had been shelled, but at least they were dry for a bit.  
  


Katya put her head down on her arms. He watched her for a bit; the front had been terribly hard on her. If she didn't rest...there must be something he could do to soothe her.  
  


She turned over and took his hand.  
  


He lifted his head. "You can hear it, still, can't you? The dying."  
  


"The bombs do more damage than the demons could dream of," she said dully. "At least the vampires kill."  
  


"Most of them, yes." He squeezed her hand. "Get some sleep, Katya. Perhaps we'll find him this afternoon."  
  


"You think so?" The fear and hope was all too obvious in her voice. He sighed and pulled her into his arms.  
  


"I'm not a child," she said.  
  


"I'm deeply aware of that," he said dryly. But still... _I'll always be your older brother,_ he'd told Eleanor once. _No matter how old you get._. "Rest, Katya. Perhaps if you dream...."  
  


"Yes," she said, and relaxed into his embrace.  
  


*  
  


_A church--  
  
She could see the shell fall, track its movement--  
  
Runes--  
  
Light--  
  
Heinrich's face, frozen in terror, and then the wolf--_  
  


She woke up in Rutter's arms, gasping for breath, terrified. Rutter held her as she shook. "There's a church," she gasped. "Some kind of binding. The wolf-- it's holding the wolf. It's....it's not a werewolf, it's bigger, it's-- there's going to be a shelling--"  
  


"It'll break the binding?"  
  


"Heinrich. It will-- oh, God--" She sobbed again and Rutter squeezed her. "We're going to save him, Rutter, we won't let that, that _thing_ \--"  
  


"Katya," he said. "Katya, it will be all right. We'll find the source of the problem. We'll find him. I have faith."  
  


"You think God will--"  
  


"My faith is in you, Katya."  
  


Somehow that soothed her, and she slept.  
  


*  
  


He should've had her write the details down as soon as she'd woken up, but Katya had been so upset, and she needed her rest desperately. He'd put some of their precious writing paper and a pen in front of her, and she stared at what she'd written, trying to make more sense of it, remember more details.  
  


_Tell me about Eleanor,_ Heinrich had asked once, and he'd talked about his sister for once, about the sickroom and the fever and the terrible, terrible waiting. She had been clever, like Katya, and he'd loved her so, so much. But love wasn't enough, he knew, couldn't keep the people you loved close to you...he'd broken down and wept, felt a bloody fool, and Heinrich's arms had been strong and close around him. The Council had insisted Heinrich return to Germany; they were more than willing to use their powers to keep Katya within the safe borders of the United Kingdom, but her brother-- the only source of stability in her young life-- had been shipped off without hesitation. They had never liked him, had never approved of his protectiveness of his sister. In their view, the Slayer stood alone, a friendless tool....  
  


And Rutter...he'd defied them, a thousand small betrayals leading into countless large ones. A Watcher's job was to watch. To stay detached. Not....  
  


Not to fall in love with your young ward's brother. Not to go along with a half-mad quest to find him, when Katya started getting the visions and insisting they must go to Germany. Not to...oh, bloody hell, there was no sense in listing it all off now.  
  


Katya was sitting before him, waiting.  
  


"Now do you have any memory of where the church might be located?"  
  


She closed her eyes and thought.  
  


For once, the vision had been straightforward, and he supposed that was a blessing. Of course, with no access to Council resources, even if they had been doing Council business...they were both mad to be out here. He rubbed at his temple nervously; he had the beginnings of a headache.  
  


Katya had opened her eyes and was scribbling at the paper. Runes, he could tell, though he couldn't read them from his perspective.  
  


He cursed when she turned them towards him.  
  


*  
  


"Fenrir," he explained. "In Norse mythology, he was a beast that was only chained by taking the arm of Tiwaz, the war god."  
  


She nodded. "Yes, I know that."  
  


"Perhaps the legend referred to an ancient demon?"  
  


She had grown up with people who thought the stories were real, who had somehow managed to reconcile their quiet Christianity with the old tales of gods and giants. But she didn't know how to explain this to Rutter, and knew he would just classify it as 'folk belief' anyway, or a mis-named demon, more likely. Rutter barely believed in God, much less in Freyja or Tiwaz. It was amazing that he could deal with the demons and vampires they saw on a daily basis and keep his sanity.  
  


"So it's a wolf demon," he said. "Perhaps a werewolf?"  
  


She shook her head. "No werewolf. I told you. It didn't look anything like one, it was bigger and black and...and...it was so powerful, Rutter. I could feel it. The soliders-- they were near the church, and it found Heinrich--"  
  


She couldn't finish. Rutter grimaced.  
  


"...it was terrible," she said finally, to fill up the silence. She had heard Heinrich and Rutter talking sometimes, behind closed doors; laughing, murmuring. They...they had been happy, she thought. She would not lose them. She would not lose that happiness. She would find an answer; she had to.  
  


*  
  


They spent the rest of the day wandering in no man's land, trying to find a village with anyone left. They had found people throughout their journey, ready to help a friendly German solider and his young lieutenant; but this part of the line was deserted, silent, strange. As evening was falling they found a well that was still giving cool, fresh water. They drank their fill and filled their canteens with relief.  
  


"At least something good came of this day," he said. "It tastes wonderful, doesn't it?"  
  


Katya nodded agreement and took another sip from the tin cup.  
  


"In Norse myth," Rutter continued, "Wotan lost his eye at a well of wisdom. I think at this stage I would settle for a cool drink and a few hours' quiet sleep."  
  


Katya touched her face thoughtfully. "What would you give for wisdom, Rutter?"  
  


"I'm not sure," he said. Wisdom seemed an absurd goal, now. He wished...he wished he could be a better Watcher, a better guide to the girl. A better brother.  
  


And then she was gone, running down the street.  
  


*  
  


She heard Rutter call her name but the sound was almost meaningless.  
  


She ran though the town and it changed around her as she ran; the houses grew more primitive, and she could see people in her peripheral vision, dressed strangely, but they didn't matter. The man mattered, and he was running, so she was too.  
  


She found him finally, sitting at a round stone table, waiting for her. His hand-- he had only one arm-- was resting on a silver sword. She bowed her head.  
  


_I've been waiting for you,_ he said. _Take this. We may need you._  
  


"Can I trust you?"  
  


_I am not the Allfather,_ he said and lifted up the stump of his arm. He was Tiwaz, the war god, the god of covenant. _I keep my promises._  
  


Not Wotan, then. Not the betrayer of warriors. Perhaps she could trust him. The stories said that he betrayed Fenrir, the great wolf, when he was bound... _Fenrir? The monster that will devour Wotan when the world ends? Is that who is bound in the church?_ She closed her hand around the sword, and she felt the power.  
  


"Katya!" Rutter cried, and the world crashed back to its ordinary state. He threw an arm around her and they both slammed into the ground. "Shh," he hissed.  
  


She could hear boys-- they must be soldiers-- laughing, chasing something-- a goose, by the agitated honking.  
  


"We'll have a fine dinner tonight!" one of them called in German.  
  


Just boys, all of them, most of them no older than she. Heinrich at least was nineteen. _Must they all suffer like this?_  
  


_It is the way of things,_ a deep male voice said in her ear. _But perhaps...perhaps we can take care of your loved ones._ Something brushed gently at her hair. _You are quite beautiful, Katya, even in these boy's clothes..._  
  


_Leave her be, Wotan._ Tiwaz's voice. _I will deal with her. You cannot be trusted._  
  


_That is why you must drive this bargain,_ Wotan said.  
  


When the soldiers had left with their prize, Rutter looked at her in shock. "What on earth was that about? You nearly--"  
  


She held up the sword in response.  
  


"What on earth--?"  
  


"A sword," she said. _A gift,_ she thought to herself. "I saw a man with one arm-- he gave it to me."  
  


"Tyr, perhaps? The old Norse god of War? He would have bound Fenrir, it seems only..."  
  


"Yes," she said calmly. "He must have been."  
  


"I wonder-- do you think he was some sort of demon? Some kind of rival?"  
  


"He wasn't evil," she said. "I would have sensed it."  
  


_Perhaps we can take care of your loved ones,_ she thought to herself.  
  


Rutter ran his hand along the elaborate design. "Certainly Germanic in design," he said. "But the technology is beyond what they would have had available..."  
  


She looked at the inscription, runes she never knew how to read as comprehensible as a child's primer. _To bring the wolf to heel._  
  


"At any rate, it's almost dark; we might as well stay here. Get some sleep, Katya," he said. "I'll take the first watch."  
  


*  
  


It felt like she'd no more than closed her eyes before she saw him. More beautiful and terrible than he'd been at the table, but still familiar; and there was something almost kindly about his eyes.  
  


_Are you prepared to bargain?_  
  


"Yes."  


_I lost my arm, girl. What are you willing to sacrifice?_  
  


"Everything," she said, and meant it.  
  


_Are you sure?_  
  


"Was he telling the truth? Can you keep them safe?"  
  


The war god kneeled down at her side. _I cannot promise everything._  
  


"Just a chance," she said. "Just give them a chance." A Slayer's lot was to die; but her brother, her Watcher...they were different. They could live. "Tell me what to do, and I will do it."  
  


_You will bind him?_  
  


"I will be the sacrifice."  
  


_He will want more than an arm, this time._  
  


"I know."  
  


_Will you give everything?_  
  


"Everything," she repeated.  
  


*  
  


When she opened her eyes, the sword was glowing with power. It was time. "I'm sorry," she whispered to Rutter, and climbed out of the trench.  
  


No one stopped her on the way to the church; the night was strangely quiet. And then the shelling began.  
  


Heinrich was near; she could feel it. But he would not be torn to pieces. She was here. Tiwaz was here. They would stop this. They would bind the wolf again. She walked in the front door; this place was abandoned, of course. She kneeled at the altar and prayed: for Heinrich, for Rutter, for her own soul.  
  


Then she held the sword in front of her like the beacon it was, and waited.  
  


_Must he be bound again?_ An unfamiliar voice; oily, untrustworthy.  
  


_Of course, Loki._ Wotan's voice, calm and seductive. _Though this feels like the end of things, it is not yet Ragnarok.  
  
_

He will not fall for the same tricks, the oily voice protests.  
  
__

That is why the girl is here.  
  


The explosion rocked the church, and she _felt_ the binding fail, felt the wolf climbing out of the chrurch foundations where it was held.  
  


It stood before her, huge, slavering, not a demon, not a beast; the monster child of a god. She shook, but stood firm, holding its attention with the blade. "Your friend's sword," she said. "I come from Tiwaz."  
  


The oily voice asked, _This is the one?_  
  


_One of the Chosen,_ Tiwaz said calmly. _She is the bond._  
  


_Fair enough,_ the voice said. _My son...it is not yet time. Kneel down._  
  


She leaned down; the wolf's breath was suffocatingly hot. Every instinct told her to run, to fight, to run it through with the sword. _You must keep your promise,_ Tiwaz said. _It is the only way._  
  


She kneeled.  
  


"Go ahead," she said, and felt Fenrir's teeth close against her neck.  


**Author's Note:**

> I changed the rules of Norse mythology a bit, assuming that history and the tricks of Loki would've changed the story a bit over the centuries (it also seems to be in keeping with the general rules of the Slayerverse).


End file.
